66I've never found it necessary to include a disclaimer in my works but I feel like it's almost required for this one, since I'll be teetering on the edge of reality and fiction. Please keep in mind that although some things in this story were inspired by real events, it's purely a work of fiction on my part. I hope you can all enjoy it for what it is and I look forward to hearing your thoughts.
Dedicated to romeokijai whose prompt suggestion was the inspiration for this fic.
Chapter One: Prelude to a Kiss
Charlotte Matheson slammed the door of her black Audi, pressing the lock key on her remote as she walked up Venice Blvd. It was early in the morning and like every other day, she'd been up since dawn. Who the hell schedules an interview at 6 AM? She'd thought about that the moment her alarm had gone off at four. Damn those East Coast journalists. The cast of her popular cable show, The Blackout, was having a table read for the fifth episode of Season 3 later that day, and she'd made plans with her friend and costar, Sebastian Monroe to meet up for breakfast.
The headlines, credits and fans all knew them by their professional names, Charlotte and Sebastian, but to each other and to those close to them, they were simply Charlie and Bass.
Bass had recently relocated to Malibu but he still liked to venture down to his old neighborhood in Venice, CA. There was a cafe there that was one of his favorites, it was one of those spots where the ambience is better than the actual overpriced coffee, but Charlie didn't mind. She loved spending time with Bass. The two of them had gotten pretty close over the last season.
She walked to the back patio, finding him seated at one of the round tables with a pair of Ray-Bans covering his crystalline blue eyes. He was texting on his phone, probably getting in touch with his girlfriend, Duncan Paige. The two of them had been dating for about a year and a half, and she had been working on the set of The Blackout as a makeup artist for a few months. If Charlie was being perfectly honest, she actually liked to pretend she didn't exist. The girl was a grade A bitch and everyone but Bass seemed to notice. She frankly didn't know what Bass saw in her—besides the fact that she was in all honestly, hot. Charlie always thought he could do way better.
"Hey!" She said, running her hand through her hair.
Bass looked up, smiling from ear to ear. He got up from the table and gave her a hug, pulling out the chair for her—always the gentleman.
"How's it going? Rough morning?" He asked, the words infused with that beautiful Australian accent of his.
Charlie frowned as she picked up the menu and began perusing it. "How many fucking times am I gonna get asked about my uncle, the 'legendary producer/director Miles Matheson' and his split from my mother, the 'infamous 80's Canadian actress, Rachel Porter' during interviews?" She sighed.
The tabloids had gone crazy when that story broke. Rachel cheating on her husband Ben with her brother-in-law Miles had been the talk of the town. That had been the headline of the day for weeks and weeks, each day revealing new details—most of which were pure bullshit. It hadn't been easy for Charlie. Most of the time her own career got opaqued by questions about the family scandal, leaving no room for questions about her projects.
"It's been three years and they're not even together anymore. You'd think they'd give it a rest." A waitress came by to take their order and they paused the conversation for a minute. "And then, of course I'm a snobby bitch for refusing to talk about it."
Bass laughed, "Yeah, well everyone that knows you doesn't believe a word of what those rag magazines publish."
That made Charlie smile. "I know I've said this before but I never get tired of hearing your accent." She noted sheepishly, covering up her slight embarrassment by trying to imitate him.
They both laughed.
The waitress came by with their coffee. She kept looking at Bass. Charlie could tell she recognized him but wasn't sure if it was from TV or due to all the times he'd been to the cafe. When Charlie looked back at him, it was obvious that Bass had been completely oblivious to it. He had his sights fixed on her, a soft smile painted on his face.
Bass had always found Charlie worthy of admiration, it was one of the first things that drew him to her and why they'd been able to hit it off so well from the beginning. Charlie wasn't like the other Hollywood girls he'd worked with before. At 25, she was more intelligent and versatile than other actresses twice her age. She exuded confidence and that to him was vastly intriguing. It also didn't hurt that she was stunning on all accounts and could easily make him laugh. Her sense of humor was the bow that tied all those perfect qualities together.
"What?" Charlie asked, noticing he was still staring.
He opened his mouth like he was going to say something but his phone buzzed, the screen lighting up on the table and reminding both of them that there was a third person in the picture. Duncan. He emitted a deep exhale before pressing the button to close the screen. Charlie didn't know why it felt like a tiny victory but her heart did things that she didn't expect.
Bass looked away for a second, he chuckled as he looked back at Charlie, "Camera guy. Black SUV." He pointed out, sipping from his cup of coffee.
Charlie didn't bother turning around. "Oooh, I can already see the headlines on Tinseltown tonight, Sebastian Monroe Caught Cheating on Girlfriend with Costar Charlotte Matheson, followed of course by endless comparisons between me and my mother." She raised her eyebrows, neither impressed nor threatened by the guy who by now probably had more than 100 shots of them ready to sell.
Bass had a smile on his face but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," she said, "That was totally inappropriate."
He shook his head, "Oh no, please continue. I'm dying to hear the details of this affair." His smile widened. Maybe Charlie had been wrong, perhaps the thought of them together wasn't a cause of discomfort for him. That in turn made her heart pound faster.
"Anyway, have you read the latest script?" Charlie asked, clearing out room on the table for their plates as the waitress set down a platter next to them.
He rubbed his chin, the nicely trimmed facial hair sliding through is fingers. "Not yet. I was planning on doing a quick run through before the table read." He began picking at his food with his fork.
Charlie grinned. "It's uh..." She took a piece of cantaloupe in her mouth and began chewing, "It's pretty great." Bass watched as she finished her bite and swallowed. "Page 28 is particularly interesting." Her eyebrows wiggled playfully.
He looked at her puzzled. She'd definitely aroused his curiosity.
Bass looked over at Charlie who was sitting across from him at the table. "I'm tired of fighting this," He paused noticing the notes: VINCE takes a hold of MEGAN's face.
Charlie's voice sounded mousy in comparison to his, "Then don't." She saw the notes that followed: VINCE kisses her passionately and MEGAN begins unbuttoning VINCE's shirt.
The creator of the show, Will Strausser—who had also penned the script—shook his head, "Are you guys fucking serious?"
The whole cast sitting at the table went quiet. Aaron Pittman pretended to scribble notes on his paper and show them to Jason Neville. Jason was the newbie in the cast and was also the son of the show's executive producer, Tom. Having gotten flack from Strausser before, he knew what Bass and Charlie were going through.
"Guys, come on! Give me some fucking passion for Christ's sake. These are two people who have wanted each other for a long time and circumstances kept trying to push them apart. Now it's their time to release all that pent up tension. I should be smelling the need to fuck from you two!" Strausser's instructions were always more than colorful.
He looked at Bass, "You sound more scared than a boy whose just touched his first tit."
Aaron chuckled under his breath.
"And Charlotte, that frightened childish voice is not doing you any favors. What the fuck is going on? Are you guys sleeping together or something?"
"What?" They responded in unison. Jason couldn't help coughing up a laugh. He and Aaron had already placed bets on when the two of them would finally admit their attraction for each other.
"Will, what the hell?" Bass said, getting up from his chair.
The showrunner looked at him with defiance. "What, is this your way of saying you're ready to jump into an actual rehearsal?"
Bass cleared his throat but didn't reply. Strausser looked at the rest of the cast and ordered them to take a break while he took matters into his own hands and worked with the troublesome pair in question.
The cast swiftly dispersed.
After a quick pep talk, he called Frank Blanchard over—he'd be the one directing the episode—and then asked Charlie and Bass to rehearse the scene in front of them.
Everything went well, that is until the part where their characters had to kiss and the clothes started coming off. Bass didn't know what was happening to him but the thought of having to undress Charlie was making him extremely nervous. His heart was fluttering like the wings of a dragonfly. Every little touch between them felt so ethereal. It was something that had never happened to him with anyone else before. The fact that she kept undulating her hips into him in a sensual manner didn't help one bit.
"No!" Strausser yelled, "Take her like you fucking mean it, Monroe!" Bass knew he was mad then, he'd begun calling him by his last name. Blanchard stood next to him, shaking his head.
Try after try and the scene never ended the way Blanchard and Strausser wanted. Bass knew it was all his fault. While he could feel Charlie's hesitation at times, the biggest flaw in execution was coming from him.
"Okay. That's enough." Strausser said. "You're all done for the day. But you better have your shit together by the time Frank starts shooting next week, Bass, or so help me God..."
Bass nodded. "Sorry, Will. I don't know what got into me." He looked at Charlie, embarrassed by his bad performance before walking back to his trailer.
Bass paced back and forth, reciting his lines over and over. He felt like he was burning, his body flaring up in response to the thought of Charlie and him becoming intimate. The more he read over the script, the more he thought of her. Naked. It was an image that continued to haunt him with every passing minute and it was driving him insane.
There was a knock on the door and he flinched, realizing his dick was rock hard and also unwilling to budge. He was about to ask who it was when the door swung open.
"Hey babe. I thought you were still rehearsing." Duncan shut the door behind her.
Bass turned away from her, trying to hide the evidence of his mental betrayal. "We finished early."
"Ugh, that's a bummer. I still have some work left." She came around him, pecking at his lips and pressing her hand against his chest. Bass returned the kiss, his mind still occupied with thoughts of Charlie. "Oh, what do we have here?" Duncan grabbed his bulge and licked her lips, "Someone up for a little fun?"
Bass pulled away. "I don't think that's a good idea."
Her mouth dropped open. "You have a raging boner and I have a few minutes to spare. It's the perfect idea." She grabbed the seam of her shirt and began to pull it over her head.
He stopped her. "We really shouldn't. We're at work and..."
Duncan groaned displeased. "You're unbelievable."
"I don't think mixing business with pleasure is very smart of us." He replied.
She rolled her eyes, putting her shirt back down. "We haven't had sex in weeks, Bass." She pushed the door open to leave, "Weeks."
Bass watched the door shut. It was true. They hadn't had sex for a while and truth be told, they'd been having numerous issues for the past few months. They'd all stemmed from the fact that Bass hadn't agreed to let her move in with him to his new home in Malibu. She'd been pushing for it ever since he got the deed to the house but he just didn't think they were ready. Duncan's constant bickering and brazen attitude only continued to prove him right.
There was another knock on the door.
He shook his head and grumbled thinking it was her again.
"Bass?" The voice on the other end belonged to Charlie. He felt a tug in his gut as he went to let her in.
The smiling face on the other side of the threshold was like a ray of warm sunshine on a cloudy day. "Is everything alright? What happened out there?" She came inside.
His lips formed a straight line. "I'm sorry." He said, leaning into the back of the couch.
"It's fine, don't worry about it." She removed her jacket and positioned it over the couch's armrest. "I was wondering if maybe you wanted to rehearse..."
Bass raised his eyebrows, "Rehearse? Here?" That sweet cadence in his voice made Charlie's insides twist.
She laughed, "Yeah. That way Strausser and Blanchard won't yell at you when it comes time to shoot on Monday." Charlie paused, "I'd hate to see you get reprimanded in front of the whole cast again."
He nodded once, "Right." Leaning past her he reached for his script on the coffee table. Charlie felt his hand brush against her arm, making her shiver unexpectedly.
They began going over their lines, eyes lingering on each other, their words enveloped with the intensity of two people who'd been fighting their feelings for too long. Bass touched her cheek, his piercing blue eyes shifting between her lips and her eyes. Charlie could feel her pulse increasing in rhythm, her cheeks becoming flushed as he continued to speak his lines into her ear.
"I'm tired of fighting this," Bass took a hold of her face, his lips crashing into her as he kissed her without warning. Charlie felt the air leave her lungs. She knew his kiss had come at the wrong time and yet she allowed it to go on without interrupting.
He pulled away after a few moments. "I'm sorry, I forgot you had a line right before..."
Charlie's heart was racing. "No worries," she said, short of breath.
They tried one more time, this time his hands sliding over her waist. That was something not on the script but Charlie didn't mind the little improvisation. She kissed him again, feeling her back coming in contact with the trailer's wall. They'd officially transcended into a state of perpetual surrealism and elation. Charlie couldn't tell if his touch was part of his acting or if the manner in which he kissed her was actually real. But she didn't care. The way her center was aching was telling her that what she was feeling wasn't fake. They didn't teach that in acting school.
Bass suddenly let go, feeling his own body reacting to her in the most sinful of ways.
"That was good." Charlie muttered, pretending like they were both well aware of what they'd been doing.
The truth was that they'd each lost control for a minute, and that minute had been the sweetest thing they'd ever experienced with each other. But at the moment, neither was ready to admit it had been anything more than just acting.
Thanks for reading! Your reviews are greatly appreciated. xoxo
